“Hi everyone, good morning.” Mira said, as her guy pulled out a chair for her and she sat. A few men, possibly under his employ rose from the table taking their cups of coffee with them. Mira made eye contact with Catalina. Even without makeup she was gorgeous. She decided to make an attempt at being friendly. “So I hear you will be married soon.”
“I will. It’s difficult because,” she glanced over at Mira. “Still looking for the perfect dress.”
“You have two dresses being delivered this week. Enough talk of this dress. You will choose from what we bought.” Giovanni said sternly.
Mira was grateful. It was her vacation and a short one. In another week this fantasy would end and she’d be in her shop working hard on next season’s line. Designing a wedding dress for a spoiled little Mafia princess, didn’t feel appealing. She reached for a pastry and some of the sliced fruit on the platter, turning her attention to her friend. “What are you doing today?”
“Horseback riding. Here atMelanzana.”
“You have horses?” Mira asked.
Giovanni winked.
“Oh. That’s nice. I didn’t know you had horses.” She glanced down to Giovanni. He sipped his coffee, returning his attention to the newspaper he had unfolded to read.
“We have over three hundred acres of land. I wanted to show it to Fabiana. You and Giovanni can come.”
“No. We have plans.” He announced. Lorenzo’s gaze switched to Mira and locked with hers. There were times his sly smiles made her uneasy. But again she suppressed that feeling. They ate breakfast and enjoyed light conversation.
“Where is Domi? I’ve been waiting for him all morning.” Catalina asked.
“I sent him away on business. He’ll return.”
“What! Why? He… he and I… we had things to do.”
Lorenzo chuckled. “Yes Gio. Domi is better suited running errands for little Catalina than tending to our affairs.”
Giovanni gave Lorenzo a silencing glare. “He’ll be back tomorrow, Catalina.”
The young woman let loose a few angry words in Italian and stormed off. Mira found her reaction interesting. She and Fabiana exchanged looks but said little.
“Are we ready to go, Bella?” Giovanni asked.
The breakfast was sweet and fresh. The pastries had to have been homemade. She nodded and rose and followed him out. Outside parked in the circular drive was a box shaped jeep with an open top. She eased on her sunglasses and silently wished she hadn’t spent so much energy straightening her hair. The wind would have it wilder than an Angela Davis afro.
“After you.” He extended his hand to help her climb up into the elevated seat. Giovanni took the time to secure her belt around her, before kissing her cheek. He walked around the front of the vehicle and slipped inside with a gun in his hand. When did he pull a gun? She stared as he tossed it into the glove compartment. She assumed he had it on him since they left the room.
“You take a weapon with you everywhere you go?”
“I call him Danny-boy.” He answered. She watched him put on a dark pair of sunglasses, his tone matter of fact.
“You named your gun?”
“He and I have been through some tough times.” Giovanni fired up the engine, and they were zooming out of the drive toward the tall gates. As she expected the wind whipped over them tossing her hair wildly in her face. The drive out of Sorrento was magnificent. They arrived under the cover of darkness. Today, in the sunlight, she saw the coast. To her right, homes and stores stretched up the mountain, and down to the left the cliffs that led to the coast had the same homes and roads. The sea sparkled as if filled with blue diamonds. The sky was clear of clouds, and the sun burned brighter than she’d ever known. Mira observed it all in silent awe, until they arrived into the congested streets of Napoli.
“We will fly into Firenze, and drive out to Chianti.”
“Fly?”
Giovanni smirked at her. “In my private plane.”
She relaxed, imagining making love to him in the clouds until they arrived at the airstrip and she saw the tiny three-seater. “We aren’t flying in that!” she exclaimed.
“I’m a pilot. You’re safe with me.” He exited the jeep.
“Giovanni! No!” Mira shook her head fiercely. She wasn’t afraid of flying, but she was terrified of flying in that propeller contraption. And was he serious? He’s a pilot. Bullshit!
He helped her out and cupped her face. “I make this flight often. You trust me? Don’t you?”